Page 211 of A Love Like Venom

I’m about to reach his hand when a swift kick to my stomach has me falling back to my side.

God fucking damn it!

I go to turn over but the familiar steel toed boot kicks me again. This time right in the kidney. I curl myself in a ball from the pain.

“Didn’t anyone tell you, Alice?” Razor begins with a snicker. “Never make a promise you can’t fucking keep.”

The steel toed boot connects with my jaw. My head snaps back viciously. A bitter metallic taste fills my mouth. I spit it out wanting to get rid of it but the taste remains. Blood leaks from my lips and drips down my chin.

Paralyzed by the pain he takes advantage and straddles me. He applies pressure on my broken ribs and I cry out. His eyes gleam excitedly as I do. Then with both hands he begins to strangle me. His grip is strong. My windpipe is being crushed by the second. My eyes bulge and water extremely. I try to breath. I try to flail and kick underneath of him. Except all that I am doing only exerts myself. I’m only losing more air by fighting back.

“What will it take, hmm?” He questions me. My mouth falls open yet no sound comes out. “You’re mine! What will it fucking take?” With his hands still crushing my throat he shakes my head forward and back. Each time that it swings back it connects with the concrete.

Blood drains from my face as everything around me becomes blurry. I hear a distinct crack and feel a warm wetness at the back of my head.

Somehow, someway I manage to croak out, “Never.”

Enraged he slams my head back down. All I see are his stormy ocean blue eyes. And I hate that it will probably be the last thing that I ever see. I hate the fact that before I die his hands will be the last to touch my skin.

Death.

I never really gave it much thought.

Even when I faced tragedies when I was younger dying never came across my mind.

But it’s hard not to think about death when it’s staring at me right in the face.

I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.

Black spots dance before my eyes. The first thing I think is what a relief. I can’t see his monstrous eyes anymore.

But if I could have one last wish . . .

If I could have one last wish it would be to be in Reed’s arm as I go. Surely the world couldn’t be that cruel. To deny me the one thing I want more than my next breath: him.

As I close my eyes accepting my fate a gust of air comes across of my face. A giant pressure relives itself from my throat. My chest expands as I greedily intake a large breath of air. It burns extremely and I end up coughing up what feels like a lung instead.

Hands, weak and gentle caress my face. I don’t even have to open my eyes to know who they belong to. In my heart I know.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers brokenly in my ear. The weight of his body lays on top of mine but I welcome it. I welcome the sting of pain he’s bringing to my ribs. I welcome the crushing feeling in my chest. I welcome it all because as long as he’s in my arms I’ll take all the pain that there is.

My hand limply comes up to the back of his head. I rest it there, my fingers tangled in his bloody matted hair. “Don’t. Be. Sorry.” My voice is hoarse, barely audible. My throat feels raw to the bone. I’m surprised I can even manage to speak at all.

“I love you,” he whispers to me. His hazel eyes are the lightest I have ever seen them. Yet they are fading with each breath. I feel his busted and bloody lips against my cheek. They press the faintest of kisses before he lays his head next to mine.

His breath is uneven and choppy against my ear. Every second that passes he worsens.

The injustice, the unfairness of it all makes me want to scream and cry.

In the distance I hear the shouts of familiar voices. Voices that are on our side. Voices that I am afraid have come too late.

“Snake! Alice!” They cry searching for us. They’re close, so very close.

“We have to go, Razor. They find us and we are fucking dead,” I hear Fiend, The President of The Crowned Devils urgently tell Razor.

Moving my head slightly to the left I see Razor sitting on the ground. His hand clutching over his right eye. Blood trickles underneath of it.

He makes eye contact with me and seethes, “I’m not leaving until I have her and he’s dead.”

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